


fish out of water

by umaspirateship



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Gaston is still a jerk, Gil perspective, Multi, Neglect, OT3, Supportive twins, my underappreciated son, nice guy gil, origin story sort of, rise of the isle of the lost canon, terrible parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11537592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umaspirateship/pseuds/umaspirateship
Summary: Loyalty was not valued on the Isle, and that meant Gil got left behind, most of the time.A tale of the relationship between Gil, Harry, and Uma, and what led him to step on that pirate ship.





	fish out of water

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Beginning and part of the end are quotes from Rise of the Isle of the Lost. I like cherry picking from the book, haha! This is my personal view of what happened (or should have happened) while Harry and Uma were busy gallivanting about and racing each other.

_Gil felt a pang at being down at the docks while they were up on the ship’s decks. They’d all been inseparable once, he and Harry and Uma…_

_\-----_

     As a kid, Gil mostly stuck to himself.

     That was a lie. As a kid, Gil mostly stuck to Uma. The LeFou to her Gaston, but like a version of Gaston that was far more cunning and beautiful and talented…

     He hadn’t been a very good henchman. He mostly spent his time watching Harry’s smile stretch across his cheeks whenever he made a joke and gazing at Uma lovingly as her hair swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the waves. Couldn’t sail a boat to save his hide, and he wasn’t very buff either. No, at that age he’d been a skinny little thing, his smile easily twice as big as his biceps.

_No one in my family is a minion! We are leaders, and I expect you to act as such! Not to mention, that sea witch has been targeted by Maleficent’s daughter herself. Do you not care about me? About my reputation?_

     Dad didn’t like it. An understatement. Gil was suddenly sent to Dragon Hall instead of Serpent Prep. No one had ever told him why. They didn’t need to. And, just as naturally as losing his best friends, Gil suddenly became accustomed to eating the scraps at the dinner table – and trust me, what counted as scraps on the Isle was really just glorified poison. He’d had Gaston’s constitution to thank for surviving.

     So, like he’d said. Gil learned to stick to himself. He’d tried to form a new gang, once or twice, but every time he tried he was reminded of the feel of Harry’s hands tugging his towards danger or the way Uma (no, _Shrimpy_ ) looked when it was late in the afternoon, and they were all too tired to act evil anymore.

     Sure, he usually had a few girls and goons following him about, admiring his cleft chin and dazzling grin, but he was never the one anybody really wanted to hang out with. He was just a way to get to Gaston Jr. or Gaston the Third. His father’s namesakes in more than, well, name. Taller, buffer, meaner, and if you asked his teachers, smarter than him. Which, judging by the way Junes had a tendency to walk into walls after staring too long into a mirror, really said something about Gil. It hurt. His dad was all about being the best, and Gil … wasn’t.

     Maybe his mom had been spot on when she had chosen his name. Most of the time he felt like a fish out of water.

     So he spent his evenings arm wrestling minions until his arms turned black and blue from being slammed against the hard wooden crates that littered the harbor. He fought hard in back alleyways where news of his failings would never get back to his dad. Did pull-ups in doorways instead of going to class. When he found some old diet books amongst the usual garbage brought over from Auradon, he started hoarding eggs and spices, learning to cook.

     Judging by the looks of the girls, it seemed to be paying off. He hadn’t lost a game in a while and had taken to showing off in Ursula’s Fish and Chips. A small part of him wanted Uma to notice, to take him back as a henchman, but her eyes always seemed to glance over him, looking for something bigger. For an adventure.

     “Gil,” Gaston the Third said one afternoon, out of the blue, “You thinking about competing?”

     Third  _never_ talked to him during the day. That was an unspoken rule, and Gil didn't want to break it... but he was curious, and, as his teachers always said,  _stupid._

     “Competing in what? Is that what everyone’s been talking about? I’ve noticed an increase in chatter at the Fish and Chips shoppe, but I didn’t think...”

     “Of course you didn’t little bro,” Gaston Jr. chuckled from the other side of the room, “If it’s not about arm wrestling or girls, you’re pretty useless.”

     “Shut up, Junes,” hissed Third. “You’re hijacking my conversation.”

     “Oh, sorry. I’ll just leave and have a chat with dad about how you’re getting all chummy with the runt.”

     “Uh, guys?” Gil said, “You never said what the competition was.”

     “Hook’s giving one of his ships to whoever wins the boat race this weekend.”

     “Thanks, Junes,” Gil said. He thought, then frowned. “No, don’t think I’ll be entering that one. Ships aren’t really my thing.”

     “Really?” laughed Third, slapping him on the back. “Then why do you spend so much time down at the dock? You can’t honestly like fish and chips that much.”

 _Anything to get out of the house,_ Gil thought.

     “Or maybe,” prodded Junes, poking him in the side, “He’s there to stare at his girlfriend, shrimpy. Remember how hung up on her you were?”

     Gil stood up mid-sentence and knocked over his chair. Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third looked on, surprised. A man cleared his throat in the doorway. Gaston _._

_Dad._

     “Dad, you’re home!” said Junes, his eyes shooting to the top of his head.

     “Gil,” Gaston growled, ignoring the greeting of his eldest son. “I told you not to talk to her anymore.”

     “Dad,” Gil started –

     “I thought you were getting better. You’ve certainly grown into quite an impressive kid. Not as impressive as I was at your age, but we’ve all got to start somewhere.”

     “Dad, I wasn’t...”

     “But now I hear that you’re hanging out with that, that shrimpy?”

     “Mal’s gone, dad. She’s a traitor! Shrimpy is going to tear Auradon to shreds, and I want to be there when she does. And anyway,” Gil glanced down at the broken chair, and avoided his Dad’s glare, “She doesn’t even remember me. We haven’t spoken.”

     “Yeah, dad,” Third started hesitantly, “everyone knows Gil only goes down to Fish and Chips because that’s where all the henchmen and pretty girls hang out. Someone’s got to admire his muscles, right?”

     “Plus, plus,” Junes jumped up, inspired, “It’s got the best tables for arm wrestling, see? Grub isn’t priced too badly either, and isn’t it better Gil take up less of the food budget?”

     “… I suppose,” said Gaston, “That I will let you off with a warning. But if you join those pirates, you will no longer be my son.”

     “You don’t need to worry, dad.”

 

     He would do anything to make his dad proud of him.

     Besides, it’s not like Shrimpy had a ship.

     -----

     Even after that argument, Gil somehow found himself drawn to the Fish and Chips shoppe. Something about the stench of the place put him at ease.

     “Gil, kid,” the disgruntled cook said, tapping him on the shoulder, “You should probably stop flexing. Everyone’s left.”

     He glanced up. She was right, the place was vacant and quiet. The only noises were the rowdy screams and cheers from outside.

     Was the barrier broken? Had someone found the trident? Was there a sale on hats?

     No.

     He realized that immediately when he ran outside and saw what had captured the attention of the crowd that morning. _The race_. Of course! How could he have forgotten? That’s what had started that whole damned argument. He shoved his way to the front, ignoring the girls who occasionally grabbed at his biceps.

     The first thing he saw was a streak of blue hair moving fast.

     “Shrimpy!” he cried, smile big. He didn’t know how she managed to get her hands on a goblin ship, but there she was, in the lead. _But wait…_

     On the ship next to her, an unmistakable pirate was racing ahead.

     Harry Hook.

     It seemed like fate, that those two would end up neck and neck, sailing together until the finish line. They’d managed to stick it out as friends, even if Gil had left. His lips quirked into a half smile.

     In a flash, the race was over, Uma throwing her fist in the air in victory. Uma. That was her name. The crowd chanted it over and over like they were caught in a spell. Gil knew he was. Oh, wait. she was talking.

     “And I’d like to introduce you all to Harry Hook, my first mate!” Uma said, waving him up to stand next to her.

     Harry stepped up on the boat, gripping his hook tightly. _Woah._ He was even more handsome than Gil had remembered. He tried not to faint looking at the both of them. That was definitely un-manly.

     He could have stared at them for hours, trying but unable to get the motivation to talk to them. His father’s words still rung in his head. But, eventually, the crowd dispersed and Gil wandered back to Ursula’s Fish and Chips, challenging the local scum to another round of arm wrestling.

     But, after beating thirty ugly goons, Gil’s arm was starting to get tired. For once in his life, all he wanted was to go home and go to bed.

     … he also wanted to –

     no.

     Sleep. He needed it.

     It was dark, this time, when Third came to talk to him. 

     “Did you see the race?” Third asked, leaning against the bed. Gil sat up, groggy.

     “Did you seriously wake me up to ask that?”

     “Well, did you?” asked Junes, popping his head in the doorway. Figures. He always followed Third around. It was easier to pick up the latest gossip that way.

     “Just the end,” Gil muttered, “I’d forgotten about it.”

     “Then you’ll know that Uma and Harry have a ship,” said Junes, shutting the door.

     “Yeah, and?”

     “And? Don’t you get it?” Third said, staring Gil down. Gil didn’t realize a kid who went through two bottles of hairspray a week could look so serious. Third stood up pulled the old, tattered trunk from underneath Gil’s bed. “They’re the big shots on the Isle now. Nobody calls her shrimpy any more, not unless they want to lose a limb.”

     Gil’s eyes widened, glancing at the suitcase. If dad knew Third was saying this, doing this…

     "Wh-what?" he stuttered.

     “You idiot,” groaned Junes,” They’ve got a ship. You’d follow them off a cliff for some bizarre reason. And they’re looking for a pirate crew.”

 -----

     His brothers helped him pack. He didn’t have much, but if Uma got them to Auradon, and he knew she would, he wouldn’t need it.

     He took a deep breath, stashed his suitcase behind some bushes to look less desperate, less unwanted, and walked up to Harry and Gil.

     Breathe.

     “Heard you’re looking for muscle,” he said, his white teeth gleaming, trying to hide the way his heart was trying to leap out from his chest. He pulled up his shirt sleeves. Thank God he had gotten buff. “You’re in luck, as I’ve got some to spare.”

 

     And finally, somehow, he was enough. Home, almost. If he’d known what that meant.

 

     ( _he did)_

**Author's Note:**

> hope everyone enjoys, Gil deserves only the best. he's actually pretty smart and dedicated too, esp. when it comes to making harry and uma happy.
> 
> hope you enjoy and have a nice day/night!
> 
> \- lots of love  
> umaspirateship


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